Very Advanced Potion Making
by daughterofdurinanddestiel
Summary: After the war had ended, Snape returns to Hogwarts and also makes a living brewing potions for wealthy clients. When one obscure potion requires a very specific ingredient, he has only one person to call to assist: Harry Potter.


Severus Snape is not a nervous person. Harry had seen him watch as his master, Lord Voldemort, tried to murder him via the snake, Nagini, and even then all Snape had done was widen his eyes a bit as the fangs had pierced his jugular.

So why was he looking like whatever he was about to say was agonising?

After Snape recovered, he was given an Order Of Merlin, First Class, for his war efforts as a spy. Harry Potter had been given one as well, and had gone into the Ministry to work as an Auror as he had intended to do since he was fifteen. He was now twenty, and was currently sitting in Snape's private quarters at Hogwarts after the Potions Master had owled him, asking his assistance for something he would not name.

Despite Harry knowing why Snape did what he did all his years as the man's student, despite the air being cleared, neither man had become friends. In fact, with the exception of Harry thanking the man when he had recovered from the poisoning, they had barely exchanged two words in two years.

Harry had moved on with his life, mostly. He became an Auror, renovated Grimmauld Place so it was habitable, and...nothing. He was ashamed to say that his life was now a bit dull. He was still very close with Ron and Hermione, as well as some other Hogwarts alums. The only person who refused to speak to him was Ginny, after he had told her he didn't want to see her anymore. It wasn't that he didn't care for her-the exact opposite, in fact. She just wasn't what he was looking for in a lover.

From what Harry knew about his old professor and protector, Snape had gone back to being the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin, relinquishing his headmaster post to Minerva McGonagall. According to Draco, whom Harry actually saw frequently in Diagon Alley for tea, Snape preferred brewing to presiding over everyone else. It was his comfort zone, and Harry didn't blame him for seeking out his slightly peculiar brand of comfort once the war had ended. Harry would have done the same...had he any comfort to fall back on.

Harry had been surprised to receive an owl from Snape, curtly asking him for assistance. He didn't say what he needed assistance with, just that it was rather urgent.

He was glad for the break in the new monotony of his life and went to Hogwarts posthaste, where he was greeted by Winky the house elf and led to an area of the dungeons he had never been in before, even swathed in his Invisibility Cloak or under the guise of Crabbe and Goyle, looking for info on Malfoy.

There was a large stone door carved with a coiled snake that had real emerald eyes. It held Harry transfixed for a moment until he realised he needed to knock and actually make his presence known. Snape was a Legilimens, not a Seer, after all.

The door opened a moment after his knock, and he came face-to-face with a man he once wished dead, but now cared for a bit deeper than even he himself realised.

Snape, to the casual observer, had not changed at all in the two years since the war ended, but Harry noticed things most others wouldn't. He was not to painfully thin or deathly pale (he could still rival the moon with his pallour, but he no longer looked to be a walking corpse), and though his hair was still long and black, it was no longer greasy. It fell, with the faintest of wave, to his shoulders, sleek and shiny. Though he still wore all black (Harry didn't think he knew any other colour besides that and Slytherin green existed), his clothes were no longer voluminous and batlike. Instead he wore a velvet black suit beneath a black silk robe edged in green. His white shirt could be seen below, as well as a primly tied black ascot at his throat. He kept the scar on his neck well covered.

Harry was momentarily stunned. If not for the haughty curl of his lip and the dark glint in his black eyes, he might not have known this was the same man, the greasy bat of the dungeons.

"Well, nice to see you are as loquacious as always, Potter," Snape said by way of greeting. "Are you going to enter or linger both inside and out, like some upright Wizarding version of Schroedinger's Cat?"

"What?" Harry asked, mentally berating himself for having 'what' be the first thing he said to the professor in over two years.

Snape tutted, but there was a hint of an upturn at the corner of his mouth. "As ignorant of Muggle history as you are of Wizarding, I see. Come on, I haven't got all night."

Harry walked into the rooms. He had never given much thought to Snape's living accommodations as a child, but had he been asked, he would have said cold, damp, and dark. He would have been right on the 'dark' part, at least.

This was a sitting room with an adjacent brewing station. It had stone floors covered with antique rugs that had patterns which changed periodically. The furniture was all deep green suede with black throw pillows and a black afghan on the back of the sofa. The fire was the only light in the room, but it wasn't gloomy. Instead, the warm semi-darkness was comforting and inviting. In place of paintings, woven tapestries lined the stone walls, and dark mahogany furniture completed the room's cosy atmosphere.

"It's good to see you, Professor," Harry said, recovering his voice.

"No need to stand on ceremony now, Potter," Snape said. "I have not been your professor for three years."

Harry was now a little unsure of how to proceed. Did he call him just 'Snape'? 'Severus'? 'Sev', like his mother used to? No, that would be far too intimate. He didn't even know why he was here.

"Would you like a drink, Potter?" Severus offered.

"Um, sure. Thanks," Harry said, taking a seat on the sofa. It felt like Heaven; perhaps the cushions were bewitched.

Severus strode over to a side table with many decanters and some fruit. Harry watched as long, nimble fingers worked at the liquor and fruit just as deftly as he used to work his potions while in class. Harry had been too full of teenage angst to pay much attention, but now he found the process fascinating and enticing.

In a minute he handed Harry a tall glass of red and yellow liquid and a slice of lemon. Harry took it with thanks and sipped. Immediately, he coughed. The drink was potent!

He heard a deep, unbearably sexy sound and realised Severus was chuckling at him. The professor took a seat in the armchair facing the sofa and sipped his own drink.

"Perhaps you would have preferred a butterbeer?" he said, amusement in his tone.

"No, it's delicious...just took me by surprise," Harry said. "What is it?"

"Tequila, lemon, pineapple juice, and passion fruit liqueur," Severus replied.

Harry drank a little more. "Potions skills extend beyond the classroom, huh?"

Severus smirked. "I do find basic entertaining skills useful at times. Despite what you think, there are a few people who find me enjoyable to spend an evening with."

"I don't think anything like that," Harry said, trailing off, unused to leaving off "sir" when talking to Snape. "I wouldn't be here if I did, would I?"

"Yes you would. Bloody Gryffindors, always rushing when needed. You're almost as bad as Hufflepuffs in that regard." The venom and spite Harry usually heard when Snape talked about Gryffindors was absent, replaced with a teasing tone.

Indeed, those black pools of ice were sparkling with amusement and the corner of his mouth was quirked up just a little. Harry found himself undeniably attracted to him and fighting off the urge to walk over and drape himself in Snape's lap.

And where had that come from? Sure, Harry had had a little crush on the Half-Blood Prince, but that was before he knew the Prince and his professor were one and the same. And yes, he admired Snape after he learned that the man had given up everything to protect him as a promise to Harry's mother. But he had never thought of Snape in a sexual way. No, that was Hermione who had done that, and Harry had thought she was mad. Now he understood. Seeing Snape in this slightly more relaxed manner, he could imagine half the student body fancying the man.

"So, how have you been busying yourself, Potter? You manage to keep yourself out of the _Prophet_ , I see," Severus commented.

"Well, being a Junior Auror requires a lot of time, and I just don't have the energy to go out after work and do something which will make the paper," Harry replied. "Why? Have you been scouring it for news of me?"

Severus scoffed. "I do read the paper, Potter, unlike someone who would rather remain ignorant of the world around him."

"You know, if you want me to call you 'Severus', you can call me 'Harry'."

"Very well." Snape sat back in his chair, and that was when Harry noticed that, underneath the light tone, Snape was really very nervous. And why was that? He had spied on the Dark Lord, he had been near death after being bitten by Nagini, he had seen the woman he loved die, he had to protect her son with the man who had once tried to kill him. He was a war hero. What did Severus Snape have to be nervous about?

"I suppose you are wondering why I called you here," he said after a few beats of silence had passed. Surprisingly, though, Harry had not found that uncomfortable. He sort of liked the comforting silence between them in this warm room.

"Well, yes. Not that I mind being here, but we haven't seen each other, excluding your near death experience and the awards ceremony, in three years," Harry pointed out.

"No, we have not. I am pleased to find that you are no longer the bumbling brat of your schooldays," Severus said.

Harry wasn't sure whether to be insulted or not. "And you're not the same jerk you were when you were teaching me."

Snape smirked. "Touche, Harry." He drained the rest of his drink in one gulp. Harry watched his throat working and felt a stirring in his pants. Snape's throat was perfect for biting. Harry could just see the edge of a scar peeking out, and that made him even sexier.

 _I need to change my train of thought quickly before he hexes me to death_ , Harry thought. He tried thinking of his one fumbling attempt at sex with Ginny before he came out. That usually did the trick.

"You might not know this, but in addition to my teaching duties, I also brew specialty potions for private, wealthy clients. As you know, there are many potions only I know the improved recipe of," Snape began. "I have so far never received anything outrageous...until I was asked to brew a potion that was once restricted. You see, it is a love potion, but it only works on...certain types of people."

Harry was intrigued. He had some experience with love potions (the time that Ron had taken the potion meant for him from Romilda Vane was one that stuck out in his mind) but had never heard of one that was restricted.

"What do you mean, certain types?" Harry asked.

"Men who harbour same-sex tendencies," Snape said.

"Oh." Harry was only 'out' to the Weasleys and other personal friends. He had not told anyone else lest he did wind up all over the _Prophet_ again. "Who told you?"

Snape gave that throaty chuckle again. "Please, Harry, do not insult me. I could tell from the moment you and Draco started bickering like two Muggle children on the playground."

"And why did you need me, though? Certainly there are other gay people around? And what do you need me to do with this potion? I'm not about to be your guinea pig. I trust you, but even I have my limits."

Severus chuckled again, the dark sound arousing Harry even more. "I do not require a guinea pig, as you so crudely put it. And while I do know other men who are gay or bisexual, I do not know of any who are currently available. Draco is married, Lucius is in Azkaban, Zabini is in the wind somewhere, and I wouldn't touch Charlie Weasley again if you paid me."

Harry's head was trying to process everything. He knew Charlie Weasley was gay, but he'd had no idea about Draco and Lucius Malfoy or Blaise Zabini. And… "Wait, what do you mean you wouldn't _touch_ Charlie _again_?"

Snape's smile was nearly rueful. "You blissfully escaped the rite of passage I am sure your father would have had you go through had he lived. It is customary in pureblood families to have their children...couple with an experienced elder once they turn seventeen. Despite my half-blood status, I was chosen by Dumbledore to be certain that each seventeen-year-old was safe during such practices. For entirely straight men and lesbian women, I do not know nor have I ever cared to know who he chose."

Harry wished he had had more to drink as he sat back against the couch cushions to take this information in. "So...you're telling me that you've legally shagged more than half of your students?"

"That is precisely what I am telling you."

"I don't see how that's okay in anyone's mind. Didn't these kids have a choice?" Harry asked, aghast.

"I am sure many did. All I know is it required parental permission, and mostly only purebloods ever did it. Most half-bloods did not give their permission unless the Wizarding side of their family was extremely old," Snape said. His eyes sparkled again. "I assure you, Harry, every student left my office extremely...satisfied. Neither Dumbledore nor myself ever received any complaints about my performance."

 _Merlin's bollocks, he is trying to kill me_ , Harry thought. "And you called me here because…"

"Because this potion requires a very specific ingredient, harvested in an even more specific manner." Snape stood up and went to the bookcase, removing from it a heavy tome and riffling through the pages. He stood before Harry and handed him the book.

" _Attrahunt homines_ ," Harry read. The potion seemed very basic for a love potion: dark chocolate extract, a bit of red wine, powdered roots of a dozen red roses, the shell of an oyster, and a few other less savoury ingredients Harry skipped over. At the end was, "After the potion has had fourteen days to brew, add the final ingredient: the semen of a male of the desired drinker's age range, procured personally by the potioneer during sexual activity."

Harry put the book down. Snape was facing the bookcase, and Harry swore he saw a deep blush on the man's pale face. "Is this for real?"

"Unfortunately yes," Snape said. "And my client is your age, he wants someone near the same. So you see, there were even fewer people to contact for this when you add in the age factor. I realise that the thought of sleeping with me must make your stomach roil, and I will not plead or cajole. If you would rather leave, I would not blame you. I simply need to let my client know to give me two more weeks to complete a new potion."

"You waited till the last day to ask me?" Harry asked.

"I did not wish to ask you until I had exhausted all other avenues," Severus replied.

Harry scoffed. "Nice to know the thought of sex with _me_ is so disgusting to _you_."

Snape turned and glared at him for a moment, and Harry felt like he was fifteen and had screwed up in Potions class. He did not speak, simply went and sat down in his chair again. After a few moments he said, "You have all evening to decide, until midnight."

Harry could not imagine Severus ever being able to want to sleep with him, since Harry was the perfect double of the man who had once tried to kill him. However, if Severus was willing to make the sacrifice, Harry wasn't going to complain. Just the thought of being beneath the Potions Master, being filled and pounded by him, completed Harry's already growing arousal.

"I'm...I guess I'd be willing to help you out for the night."

Snape looked up at him, black eyes wide with surprise. "Well, Harry, you surprise me still." He stood up and walked to stand in front of him. "Are you sure? I do not wish to make you feel as if you must. Another fortnight without a lover will not kill my client."

Harry stood up as well, because the sight of Snape staring down at him in what he could only think of as a predatory manner, was sending him right over the edge. Now he was level with Snape's beaky nose and that wasn't much better, because all he had to do was reach out and kiss him.

"I'm sure," was all he could manage to say; the scent of cloves, leather, and vanilla assaulting his senses, wafting from his former professor.

"Then I believe we should...begin," Snape said, his deep voice reverberating in Harry's chest.

"Here?" Not that Harry minded being shagged on a couch.

Snape shook his head. "My bed chambers are this way." With that, he reached out a hand and placed it on the small of Harry's back, sending jolts of heat through him even though his shirt and robes.

Snape's bedroom was similar in style to his sitting room, but even darker with only two wall sconces that the man lit with a quick spell. The bed was a large, wooden four-poster with shimmering deep green and black sheets and pillows. It looked soft.

Snape entered the room behind Harry, closing the door behind him. Harry felt his breath on his neck as he whispered, "You should know that I am a very dominant lover."

 _Oh fuck_ , Harry thought, feeling the tightness in his pants at those words. If he didn't get them off soon, he might injure himself.

"Just because this was born of work does not mean I don't intend to enjoy it," the professor added, running his hand lower, along the curve of Harry's plump arse, making him tense up. He leaned in and licked Harry's neck before moving on to bite his earlobe, eliciting a groan.

"Look, Severus, if you intend to keep teasing me like that, you're not going to get what you came for," Harry said.

The hand stilled for a moment, then grabbed his arse a bit harder.

"I have few rules in here, Harry, but one of them is that I am in control. If I deem it so, I will make you come over and over again till your young body is beyond spent." His other hand moved to Harry's throat, tilting his head back so it rested against Severus' shoulder. His hand made its way over Harry's chest, and Harry could feel his warm palm even through his robes as his chest and stomach were caressed. Then Snape's hand ghosted over his clothed erection and Harry's entire body stiffened once more.

"Already so hard for your greasy old Potions Master, eh, Harry?" He felt Snape grin against his neck before he bit it softly.

He removed his hands from Harry's cock and arse and the began to ease off Harry's robe, letting it fall to the floor. His shirt followed soon after, and his shoes and socks mysteriously vanished. He was left only in his tented trousers as Snape turned him so they were face-to-face. Harry saw that his dark eyes were glinting with a predatory lust and he wondered just how dominant the man was. Half of him was now a little apprehensive-Snape _had_ been a Death Eater for years-but the other half of him was too far gone to think of abandoning this now.

"Remove your trousers and pants and sit on the foot of the bed," Snape ordered.

Harry did as he asked with trembling fingers, more than a little self-conscious of his body as Snape's eyes practically ate him up, inch by inch. Many people might have bristled at Snape's tone, but Harry was, surprising to him, a natural submissive, and being told what to do in the bedroom got him even hotter.

He sat on the soft comforter, legs barely reaching the floor as he watched Snape begin to disrobe. No one would ever call the professor's body gorgeous or stunning. He was still too thin for that, and his body was covered in light, old scars and fine black hair. He was not gorgeous, but he was sexy.

At long last he removed his pants, revealing an erection considerably bigger than Harry's, already half hard. Even exposed, totally naked in the eye of a former student, he exuded calm confidence. Then again, Harry supposed it was natural, if he had shagged almost all his students legally.

"Hm. All it took to render you speechless was removing my trousers?" Snape observed. "Had I known that, I would have done it sooner." He stalked closer to Harry, moving silently and swiftly like a snake. He stopped before him, Harry's head level with his navel.

"On your knees," Severus commanded.

Feeling weak with lust, Harry did as he was told, sinking into the soft carpet, now eye-level with that impressive, reddening cock. Tentatively, Harry reached out and wrapped his hand around the base, feeling the smooth, veiny skin over the hard muscle. He wasn't a virgin, but the limited experiences he had had were not sufficient to make him even half as confident as his new lover was.

He bent his head and gave the tip a small suck, tasting the salty precome that had already begun to pool there. He tongued the slit, wondering if that was the right thing to do and was rewarded with a small groan from Severus.

"I am not made of glass, Harry," he admonished. "Come on, I want to see what a good little cocksucker you can be."

Harry never thought he'd hear something like that from Severus' mouth and his cock twitched in response. He opened his mouth and sucked the tip in, harder than before, feeling velvety flesh against his lips.

A hand entwined in his hair, tightening and holding him in place as Severus began to thrust shallowly, filling Harry's mouth with his length. Harry followed along as well as he could, sucking hard and using his tongue on the underside of Severus' cock.

The Potions Master groaned and thrust harder, making Harry gag around him as the tip brushed the back of his throat.

"You like this, don't you? My cock down your throat, on your knees at my mercy?" Severus asked, his deep voice even more rough than it had been.

Harry hummed in response and he felt Severus shudder as his cock felt the vibrations. A few more thrusts and Severus pulled out of Harry's mouth with a pop. Harry coughed, breathing free air at last.

Severus chuckled once more. "On the bed. Now."

Harry complied, his cock now so hard it was a physical pain as it bobbed along with his movements, an angry red colour. One touch could possibly be enough to undo him. And he had a funny feeling that that was what Severus was intending, to make good on his promise to make Harry come over and over until there was nothing left.

Severus stood over him, face hidden beneath his long black hair, simply assessing the young man. Harry felt himself shiver all over as those onyx eyes raked him in. Severus climbed onto the bed next to Harry and did the very last thing the young Auror had expected: he kissed him. Soft, slow, but insistent and dominant, Severus erotically plundered Harry's mouth, holding his face in his hand as he propped himself up on his elbow.

Harry had been kissed before, but never like this. It felt like his very being was being drawn into his former professor, as if the man were part dementor and was capturing Harry's soul for his own through that kiss.

Finally Harry needed to draw breath, and Severus' lips moved lower, worrying at his throat and collarbone before trailing down his nearly hairless chest and over his nipples. He licked one then the other, before biting down and Harry yelped. The pain was intense but sent shockwaves straight to his cock.

Severus chuckled against his skin and bit him again, while his hand trailed down to grasp Harry firmly, spreading his precome along his length to use as lubricant. Harry bucked his hips, desperate for more friction to finish him off before he exploded. Even the way Severus was jacking him off was rough and controlling.

"So eager," Severus said, his voice a rumble. "I wish I had found reason to use you sooner."

With those words, the verbal acknowledgement that he was being used, Harry came with a shout, covering his stomach and Severus' hand with his sticky seed.

He felt silly, like a teenager again and was very nearly about to apologise when he noticed that the Potion Master wasn't perturbed in the slightest. Harry watched, transfixed, as he brought his come-covered hand to his mouth and licked it clean. Just the erotic sight caused Harry's groin to stir already.

"The boy who lost his innocence far too young, yet that is precisely what you taste like," Severus said, leaning over and kissed Harry again.

He tasted himself on the professor's lips and tongue: a salty tang that wasn't entirely unpleasurable. Never had he felt so desirable, been in a situation so erotic.

Severus broke the kiss and leaned over to reach into the bedside drawer, pulling out a Muggle condom and passing it to Harry. "To collect the specimen," he explained.

"Will it work while I'm not hard yet? I don't want it slipping off," Harry said.

An eyebrow arched in response, and Harry thought it was the sexiest thing.

"Allow me to remedy that." He moved from his side and began to caress Harry's thighs, spreading them open. He bent his head, long black locks brushing Harry's heated skin as his lips licked, bit, and kissed their way up his thighs, sending shockwaves of sensation to his bollocks.

"Fuck, Severus," Harry groaned, feeling himself stirring.

"That is precisely what I am intending to do," Severus replied. His tongue licked at Harry's sac, going up his length, which was now half-hard, licking whatever come remained on his skin.

Harry met his eyes while he was doing so and the half-lidded look in them was enough to drive anyone crazy. It was almost boyish in its mischievousness.

" _Purus_ ," Severus muttered, casting a wandless spell Harry didn't know. He suddenly felt...empty wasn't the right word. Clear. Clean. It took a moment, but he finally realised what his lover had done and what he planned on doing now.

Harry's whole body broke out in gooseflesh as Severus licked his arse crack from end to end and he made a high, unusual keening sound. No one had ever done that to him before.

Severus chuckled, the sound making his arse vibrate. "A little more innocent than I initially thought, huh, Potter?"

His tongue poked the little puckered entrance, and Harry felt it push pat the outer ring of muscle to enter him, licking and prodding and sucking. _Fuck, he's practically snogging my arse,_ he thought. A second thought hit him, _He's not going to use lubricant, he's just going to...oh dear fuck what have I got myself into_ now _?_

Aside from his tongue, Harry felt Severus begin to slip first one and then two fingers inside of him, stretching him. It felt beyond amazing. Harry had never been stretched manually, just used stretching and lubricating spells. For once, the Muggle way seemed preferable.

Severus removed his tongue and slid a third finger inside of Harry, twisting them up and hitting the spot that made him see stars. He let his fingers stretch him a bit more before pulling them out.

Harry locked eyes with the professor, seeing in his dark ones the haze of lust and thrill of dominance.

Severus waved his hand and said, " _Coercere_." Suddenly Harry felt his hands moved from where he'd had them under his head. They were bound together by some invisible force, straight above his head. He was now truly at Severus Snape's mercy, and if the professor fucked like he taught, there would be none shown tonight.

Harry's heartbeat sped up and his mouth ran dry. "How did you...I mean, I always wanted…"

"Legilimency, you silly boy. How else would I have known you always wished to be tied up and shagged like a rentboy?" He smiled and Harry thought that that expression could be used as a form of torture.

With practiced ease, he opened the condom and slipped it over Harry's now fully erect cock.

He spat on his cock and mixed it with the precome Harry now saw was pooling at the tip. Severus lined his cock up with Harry's entrance, and Harry felt the pressure just there, pushing a little, and he worried he hadn't been stretched enough to accommodate him.

Severus pushed forward and the tip slipped inside. Both men let out moans at the new sensation, Harry's trailing off into a gasp. The professor moved in slowly, going in inch by inch until he was fully seated inside of Harry, his pelvis flush against his arse.

Harry hadn't expected him to be considerate, but he gave him a few moments to adjust before he began to move.

He started slow, letting Harry and himself get used to how each other felt before picking up the pace. Harry was helpless but to lay there and enjoy it as his arse was pummeled and his body was driven deeper into the mattress.

Just when Harry thought for certain he would die if he wasn't touched, Severus pulled out of him with a slick wet popping sound. He keened at the loss of sensation.

"Don't whine unless you wish to be left like this: on the edge of coming with no hope of release," Severus growled. He placed his hands on Harry's hips and flipped him over onto his knees. He was able to move his arms enough to get them under his chest so he didn't suffocate in the duvet.

There was a loud sound and then a stinging sensation: it took him a second to realise Severus had just spanked him. Again, on the opposite cheek.

"Fuck!" Harry cried.

"Naughty children require correction. This is, I have heard, the most common form."

Damn him, Harry could _hear_ the smirk in his voice.

Again, twice more on each cheek. Harry's cock was ready to explode.

"Come on, Harry," Severus cajoled. "If you want to come so badly, beg me. Beg, or I leave you here like this, red arse waving in the air and bollocks full to bursting."

"P-please…" Harry trailed off.

 _Smack!_ "Please _what_?"

"Please make me come!"

 _Smack!_ "Not good enough. Show some respect when you beg, fucktoy."

Oh God, Harry was going to come on his voice alone soon.

"Please let me come, _sir_!"

"Better." And with that Severus shoved his entire length back up Harry's arse and the young man gasped at the sudden feeling of being filled by the man who now seemed such a perfect fit inside of him.

Being called 'sir' had released something inside of Severus, and he was pounding Harry like an animal, raw and uninhibited. His hips smacked Harry's arse with each thrust. And then Severus began to talk, and Harry was going to come undone from the utter filth spewing from those lips.

"That's it. Take it. Take my cock, you fucking slut. Your arse is so tight, so hot. I'm going to ruin you for every man that comes after me. I'll stretch you so far open you'll be forever marked as my property, my little fuck toy."

Severus gripped his hips hard enough to bruise, canting him at an angle where his cock was hitting his prostate with every single thrust; the bed shook with the force of them.

That was more than Harry could bear, and he came without even being touched, filling the condom with what felt like an ocean. He cried out Severus' name as he came, tears forming in his eyes from the sheer force of it.

The professor kept pounding him, the friction now just shy of becoming unbearable when Severus stilled, shuddering, and Harry felt his insides fill with his hot come.

Harry felt like he couldn't breathe, like he was floating even though he was in pain and pressed into the mattress. It felt perfect.

He heard Severus mutter a spell and the filled condom floated off Harry and right out the other door, presumably to go into the potion bubbling in the main room.

His hands were then released from their invisible prison, and he flopped over onto his back, looking up into the flushed, sweat-soaked face of Severus Snape. He wasn't sure what to say, if anything, and so he did the only thing he could think of: he hooked his hands around Severus' neck and pulled him down for a wet, messy kiss.

"Severus?"

"Hmm?"

"If you ever need help with a potion again, call me first."

One month later…

Severus had said one thing true when he was shagging Harry: he had ruined him for every other man. Harry couldn't imagine anyone making him feel half as good as the professor had. His arse had stung from the spanking for two days, and his heart had stung longer.

It had started as a quick fuck, how had he suddenly discovered all of these... _feelings_ for Severus? It just wasn't natural.

He was at his flat near Diagon Alley, thinking about that night and getting hard at the memory of that dark voice saying what he had. A tent was forming in his trousers at the memory. He leaned his head back and was just about to open his flies when there was a knock at the door. His flat was warded, in case any enemies should try to find him. Who had gotten through his wards?

He padded barefoot to the door, his wand behind his back. In the peephole, at first all he saw was black, but he looked up and saw that Severus was now at his doorstep.

He wrenched the door open and said, "What are you doing here?"

The older man arched an eyebrow. "What a kind greeting."

"Sorry, it's just...I didn't know you knew where I lived."

"I didn't. I asked Minerva for the address."

 _Oh_. "Why are you here? Did something go wrong with the potion?" Harry noticed the man had a brown bag in one hand.

"Not as of yet, but I thought it might be prudent to have extra potion on hand for the future." He held up the bag. "Firewhiskey. And I stopped off at Regulation."

Harry's face paled. Regulation was a Muggle bondage shop.

"You _did_ say if I needed to make a potion again, I could call on you," Severus reminded him. "I think I might be needing...quite a bit of assistance in the near future."

Harry smiled, opening his door wider. "Well, why didn't you say so? I'm always happy to help with your advanced potion making...sir."

Dark eyes flashed with fire. "Oh, Harry, this is going to be a very painful...and very entertaining partnership."


End file.
